


The Kingsman

by Mystique1250



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Harry Hart Lives, Kingsman Training, Post-Kingsman: The Golden Circle, Post-Kingsman: The Secret Service
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 16:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15952937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystique1250/pseuds/Mystique1250
Summary: Kylie Edelaigt meets a mysterious man in the Kingsman tailoring on a rainy day. He looks so familiar to her and driven by an invisible instinct, returns to tailoring once again. But this decision changes everything.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first language.

I sighed. Why does it always have to rain here in London? I shouldn't have left my umbrella at home. The sky is lit again by a flash. I'm starting to get scared. Thunderstorms still frighten me. My eyes wander. There's something to assume here. Most shops are already closed. I look around desperately as I see a shop where the light is still on. I walk over and look at the window. The name of the shop can be read at the top of the window. "Kingsman" is written in big letters. There are several Budapester and Oxforder in the shop window. Only one lamp shines and nobody seems to be there. Too bad. However, I decide to check if someone is there after all. I'm walking to the door. It's dark wood. I grasp the doorknob and press. The door opens slowly. I look to the right and then to the left. There's nobody out on the street. I don't want it to look like I'm breaking in.

 

In the tailor shop it smells like cedar wood and you can hear the rain beating loudly even in here. I'm looking at the floor behind me. Damn, I got the floor all wet. "Hello. Is anybody here? It's raining so hard and her place was open, so I just came in. I hope that's okay," I shout out loud in the hope that the owner of the shop hears, but nobody seems to be here. 

I'm starting to look in the store. Some fabric rolls lie on one shelf, while several shoes are placed in another. Next to the counter where the cash register stands a mannequin dressed in an elegant suit. "Good evening, My Lady," says a distinguished voice behind me. I scream in horror and drive around. A middle-aged man steps out of a cabin in the back of the shop. He wears an elegant suit and glasses. He's gelled his hair back. In his right hand he is holding a black umbrella. The man smells of an English men's perfume, which my father used to use often. It is very expensive and only few wear it. My father always said it was the perfect perfume for the English gentleman. 

He was a good father and a true gentleman. As far as I know, he was a tailor too, but I can't remember exactly. He died pretty young, after all, and I was very young. I was only 3 years old at the time. Now I live alone here in London with my mother and my little sister. We don't have much money and can only afford our apartment and something to eat with difficulty. 

"Good evening," I say politely. The man squints his eyes together: "Kylie Edelaigt, right?" I nod slowly and completely perplexed. How does he know my name? He smiles friendly. "What brings them to our store?" asks the man. Uh-huh, so he's part of the King's tailor's workshop. I point to the road: "D-The rain. I forgot my umbrella and wanted to wait here until it was over. " 

He nods sympathetically and then walks towards me. I follow him with my gaze, still pretty confused. He seems kind of related. He stops in front of me. Then he hands me his umbrella: "Take my umbrella, Miss Edelaigt. " After a short thought I take the umbrella and smile gratefully: "Thank you Mr. . . uh. . . " "Hard," he says, "Harry Hart. " "Thank you, Mr. Hart," I say. Then I turn around and leave the store. But before I step out onto the road, I say: "I'll bring them back their umbrella in a few days. Promised. " He nods. I put on the umbrella and walk back home in the rain.


	2. Chapter 2

The heels of my boots sound on the steps of the stairs under my feet. I've just left school and I'm more than happy that I finally made it through this day. Nine hours of class is clearly too long. Now I just have to do something and then I can finally go home. Will I be able to calm down at home then? I look up at the sky. Finally no rain, although I would even have an umbrella with me today. I hold it in my right hand and always let its tip come up on the ground when my feet touch it. It is the one Harry Hart gave me a few days ago after I stumbled into this store thanks to the heavy rain. Today is the day I want to bring him back to the man. It's actually a normal umbrella like any other, but it doesn't look like that to me. He seems very special. In contrast to a normal umbrella, it looks a little heavier and more robust. It also has an engraving on the handle. 

But the umbrella isn't the only thing I think about. I've also thought about Mr. Hart. He seemed a little familiar. This man had a strange resemblance to my father. Both real gentlemen, both well dressed and both had this expensive perfume. 

I walk slowly through the streets of London until I arrive at the shop that I have only entered once in my life. I look around again. Above the shop hangs a large sign with the inscription "Kingsman" and in the shop window several Budapester and Oxforder. 

Through the glass I can see a person standing at the counter this time, but it's not Harry. This man looks old instead. His shoulders are flexed and his hair grey. With both hands he holds himself on the flat wooden shelf and stares tiredly in front of him. 

My hand somehow finds the door handle and I kick in. The man looks up and looks at me: "Good day, My Lady. What can I do for you?" I walk happily towards him and look around: "Hello, is Mr. Hart here?" "Mr Harry Hart?" the man continues. His voice sounds warm but fragile. I nod friendly, whereupon he begins to shout out loud: "Harry? You have a visitor!" A door on the side opens and Mr. Hart steps out. "Visitor? From whom," he asks elatedly. Once again, he seems very calm and like my dad. I wonder if they knew each other. He wears an elegant suit and glasses like last time. He's gelled his hair back. 

Now he recognizes me, too, although I look quite normal and I am nobody to remember. My hair is dark brown to black and my eyes have a normal green. So why would he remember my face? 

"Ah, hello, Miss Edelaigt", he says, "Are you here to bring my umbrella back to me?" I nod, carried away by his joy, and stall him with the umbrella. "Thank you," he answers joyfully and his fingers grip the handle, when suddenly several people storm into the shop. They wear black balaclavas and completely black frocks. I'm in shock. What do the people here want? 

When Harry discovers the people, he travels me to his place and opens the black umbrella. He does so just in time, as one of them pulls out a gun a few seconds later and starts shooting at us. "Relax," whispers Harry: "I'll do it!" But I don't feel like relaxing. My breath goes faster and the adrenaline shoots through my body. But one of the shooters manages to hit me with a bullet in the leg. I scream in pain and Harry pulls me closer to him. 

Suddenly we are dizzy and again and again briefly black in front of my eyes. I'm barely conscious long enough to see my protector pull out a gun and shoot the men. Then it turns black to me.


	3. Chapter 3

My head hums terribly as I regain consciousness. My back hurts thanks to the hard mattress under me and my muscles are completely tense. I have little memory of what happened. But how I got here is not at all clear to me. Slowly I open my eyes carefully and stare through the room in which I find myself. A little light shines through a large window covered with dark curtains and makes it a little easier for me to see things around me, even when most corners of the room are dark. The light tells me it must be about ten in the morning. How long have I been asleep and where am I, anyway? Uncertainly, I begin to move to see if I am in pain somewhere other than my head. My arms are heavy and I just want to close my eyes again and go back to sleep until the pain stops, but I can't make it. For this reason I slowly push the blanket to the side and get out of the bed in which I was lying and run to the window with shaky legs. With shaky fingers I rip open the curtains. Immediately the glaring bright light shoots at me and I must quickly squint my eyes again, so that I do not go blind. After I waited a few seconds, I can open my eyes again, luckily, because I finally got used to it.

Suddenly I hear the door opening behind me. I drive around frightened and stare at the man standing in the doorway. It's Harry Hart watching me with interest from his brown eyes. Just like the last time we met, he wears a suit and black glasses on his nose. He gelled his brown hair backwards: "Good morning, Miss Edelaigt. Are you feeling better?" Uncertainly I huddle around the window and stutter quietly: "Yes, I think so. " "How much do they remember?" he asks and steps out the door frame to fall into a wine-red wing chair.

I frown and try to remember something that is harder than I thought. Only a fraction of what happened is still anchored in my memory. The pictures of a shop in London haunt my mind. I also remember the name "Kingsman" and then the picture of an umbrella appears in my head, but somehow I am not able to connect these three information: "Not so much. "I have some information in my head, but it seems so incoherent. " He gently smiles at me: "All right, when the time comes, I will explain everything to you and then you can decide yourself whether you want to stay here or leave again. This decision is yours to make. " His words don't make sense. What decision do you want me to make? "Where am I anyway?" I ask in surprise, holding my head with one hand. "If you're already up for it, I can show you around the grounds, Miss Edelaigt," he explains. The grounds? We are no longer in London, for I do not know of any particularly large property there that could be described as land. It's more like doing it at a university or something. I'm actually starting to want to know where I am: "All right, then show me where I am. " Right away Mr. Hart jumps up and goes to a closet to rummage around in. I assumed that we would leave right away, so I went to the door to wait for him. The Briton comes back with a white dressing gown he hands me: "Please put this on." I don't want them to catch cold. " Cold? Asking, I take the coat and put it on. But then I notice that I only wear thin white clothes when I look at the mirror attached to the cupboard. My skin is pale almost white and my hair is hanging straight down from my head. I look terrible and actually begin to wonder how long I've been asleep, but Harry doesn't seem to want to ask me any more questions, so I just follow him as he leaves the room and closes the door behind us. The tension rises when I see the huge corridor in which we now stand and in my belly it starts to tingle easily.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave a comment!


End file.
